


There It Is

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, First Times, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old lover comes a-knocking for Jim, and Blair isn't happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There It Is

**Author's Note:**

> My first posting here. A tiny bit of Blair angst, but everything works out, of course. I crave feedback ;) 

## There It Is

by Strandia

Author's webpage: <http://members.aol.com/strandia22>

Author's disclaimer: Pet Fly owns these guys, but I don't think they'd like what I'm doing to them. No harm intended.

* * *

I don't know what's worse: being in love with Jim Ellison and knowing he's completely straight and therefore unattainable, or being in love with him and knowing that he does indeed go for men... just not me. 

My world view was only shaken a few hours ago. Jim and I had been watching Star Trek, 'The Trouble With Tribbles', at my insistence that it was a classic. It was a boring, regular old evening; neither of us wanted to work, or go out. Sitting in comfortable silence in front of the TV was good enough. 

Anyway, there was a knock on the door, of the elaborate, 'shave and a haircut' variety. Nothing too unusual. Jim's brow furrowed, as if he was trying to identify the person by hearing. He couldn't seem to do it, shrugged, and got up to answer the door. 

All I heard was an exclaimed "Will?" and then a muffled sound. Like Jim's mouth had suddenly become otherwise engaged. 

I turned my head, my timing perfect to catch Jim kissing a man. Really kissing. Kissing feverishly, almost brutally. A man. 

And Jim was not just a passive receiver. He was reciprocating with fervour. Think starving man, here. 

I would never have thought Jim had it in him. But there it was. 

After what was probably about ten seconds (it seemed like hours), Jim's arms came up to the other man's shoulders and pushed him backwards, forcefully breaking the kiss. Jim took a few heavy breaths, before blurting out, "What the fuck are you doing here? Jesus Christ, I thought you were dead!" 

The bastard was older than Jim, about ten years. Deadly handsome, with deep brown eyes and wavy black hair peppered with grey. He grinned at Jim, his eyes feral. "Do I look dead?" he asked, and he made a move toward Jim again. Jim avoided his touch, backing up quickly. He glanced at me for a second, his eyes apologetic and embarrassed. And a bit panicked, as well. Me, well, I was just watching in shock. "I was never dead Jimmy, just out of touch for a while. Like you were." 

Jim ran a hand nervously through his hair, not making eye contact with the other man. "Oh. Right. Um, listen, Will, is there something I can do for you or something?" 

"You bet there is." He made a 'come-hither' sign with his index finger. 

Jim backed up until he bumped against the couch, and incidentally, me. "Oh. Blair. Um, Will Danskin, this is Blair Sandburg, my, uh, roommate. And partner." 

Will's eyes left Jim for the first time, and glanced at me. Ahem. Well, 'glanced' wouldn't be the best word for the veritable survey he was doing on me. "Partner, eh?" 

"Oh, well, not like that," Jim clarified a bit too quickly for my tastes. "I'm a detective, and he's a police observer, and we're partnered together." I swear, the man was seriously off-balanced. He was on the verge of babbling. 

Danskin's eyes looked amused. He nodded at me before turning his attention back to Jim. "You're free, then. Come to dinner, tonight, 8 o'clock, at Pauline's. And don't worry, it's right next door to my hotel." 

Jim nodded nervously. I think my mouth must have fallen open. He was actually going out with this slimeball? The guy was treating him like a shy schoolgirl, and even worse, Jim was acting like one. 

"I'll see you then, Jimmy. Dress up pretty. And don't wait up, Sandburg." Will chuckled and exited the loft, closing the door behind him with a dull thud. 

Jim just stood there, staring after the door, his head cocked to the side. He was listening to something. I opened my mouth to speak, but he just waved his hand at me. Finally, he sighed, and slid down the back of the couch to sit on the floor. 

I had to jump in. "Jim, what the hell was that about? Who is he?" 

"Captain Will Danskin. Another Covert Ops man. Jesus Fucking Christ..." He covered his face in this hands. He seemed to have more to say, so I just waited. Sure enough, he started to speak again, his voice coarse. "I thought the guy was dead, and you know what? I was relieved, cause I thought I'd never have to deal with him again." He slapped the floor. "The bastard. I can't believe he has the nerve to just come here and touch me and make a date with me like it's been a few days since I've seen him, like nothing's changed, for fuck's sake." 

What the fuck? "Jim, I have no idea what you're saying, okay? I mean, you said yes, you just stood there like a goddamn girl scout being yelled at for not selling enough cookies, okay? What, you can tackle serial killers but you can't say no to some guy who comes knocking at your door? And what the fuck was that anyway? You never told me you were..." I took a deep breath. Calm, Peace, Serenity. "You never told me that." 

Jim turned his head at an unnatural angle to regard with resigned amusement my head poking over the back of the couch. "Sandburg, I'm gay." 

"Nice to know. Now care to explain the rest?" I was floored. I hadn't known. At all, I mean. No fucking clue. But there it was. 

"Will was the first man I ever... ever acted out my feelings with. He, uh, helped me get promoted. I would never have been a captain so fast if it wasn't for him. He never let me forget that." He must have been listening to my body's reactions, cause he quickly added: "Everything was consensual, Chief. I was a stupid, ambitious kid. I didn't care how I got to the top, as long as I got there." If I hadn't been so shocked, I might have laughed at his choice of words. Jim, though, laughed bitterly. "Will has some sort of power over me. I never could refuse him anything. I thought it was love, at the time, but it was just some sort of power trip. Jesus, he was supposed to have been killed in Iraq." 

Shit. That was more than Jim had ever told me about his past at one point in time. It was usually a sentence, thrown in, and I usually had to beg for those. 

"Blair, I'm sorry I never told you this before, but I didn't know how you'd react. And it's just... it's not a factor in my life anymore." 

"What about Carolyn? And all those women since?" 

Jim shrugged. "I don't know, Blair. I guess I wanted to be normal. I mean, I love women, I just love men more. When I fell in love with Carolyn, I thought I'd changed, that I was normal, that I'd found 'the one'. I was wrong." 

"That you'd become normal? You're way too smart a guy to believe shit like that, Ellison." It was sad that people were raised to think like that, even sadder that people believed it into their adult years. 

"You'd think." He shrugged. 

"Yeah, you would. Jesus, Jim... I can't believe this..." 

"Look, Sandburg, I didn't tell you because I thought you might react this way, all right? I don't need this." He thought I was a bigot. Great. 

"I'm not reacting to anything except shock, all right? I'm shocked, as in surprised, but that's it, man. I mean, you sure didn't give me much warning, or drop signals, or something like that." 

Jim didn't say anything, he just dropped his head into his hands and groaned. 

"And Jesus! That guy, just coming in here and grabbing you like that? That's pretty shitty. What are you going to do about it?" 

"Well, I guess I'm going out to dinner." He got up. He was slouching. 

"You're not going to..." I couldn't even think about it. Jim, with that man. With any man. With any man that wasn't me. 

"I don't know. Maybe." He glared at me, mounted the stairs, and didn't come back down until he left. I didn't say anything else to him. 

So, here I am. In love with this bastard who didn't even tell me he was gay and who's probably going to spend the night being fucked by that asshole Danskin. 

Of course, I didn't take the initiative and blurt out the fact that I'm bisexual, and interested in Jim. Of course not. 

Because obviously Jim's not interested. He's gay, he said the word himself, but he hasn't made any moves on me, or even looked at me like it might be possible, like he might want me. And hell, I've been looking to see if he's looking at me like that. 

And by the looks of Will Danskin, Jim does not go for scrawny, short, long-haired types like me. He goes for mirror images of himself: big, strong, and gorgeous, someone who's been in the army and can do a thousand pushups. 

He wore cologne tonight, you know. Jim does not wear cologne. He can't stand the stuff; it drives him crazy. See, he's not himself. The motherfucker brainwashed him, or something. 

But Jesus. Right now, right fucking now, my partner might be getting fucked. Jim was so obviously the bottom in that relationship, something I wouldn't have expected. But that's not to say I don't like it. 

So does the fact that my fantasies could conceivably be realised make this worse or better? Jim's getting fucked right now, and not by me. Okay, yeah. Worse. 

Yeah, that bastard's got his cock up Jim's ass. I can sense it. Jim's probably making loud, unintelligible noises, whimpers maybe. The occasional "fuck me harder, you goddamn motherfucking bastard." 

God, if I knew I only had to treat Jim like shit to get into his pants, I really would have stopped meditating, or something. It's not like I can't be dominating. Sure, I'm short and cute, but we can get over that. Play along with me here. 

I should have fished out my leather pants one day, bought a whip and waited for Jim to come home. He'd see me, and I'd say something like, "Get your ass over here, I'm going to fuck you until you can't sense anything but pleasure, lust, and me." Hey, that's not bad. 

Who am I kidding? He'd take one look at the leather and laugh. Say something dumb, like "Hot in there, chief?" or "I didn't know you hung with the Angels, chief." 

I can't believe that Jim fell for this guy's shit. Sure, he was younger then. Sure, he wanted to get ahead. I realise sleeping with the boss, or superior, or whoever, isn't that rare a thing, even if I've never done it. But this guy... I can't imagine Jim ever falling for him. I saw him for 5 minutes, and I hate him more than anyone I've ever hated. 

Jim's not a wimp. He doesn't deserve this guy. He deserves someone who'll treat him well, as well as fuck him until he screams. Me, in case you're stupid. 

It might sound like I'm only in it for the physical. I mean, sure, Jim's a fucking statue. He's got the most perfect body... well, we all know where that sort of thought will lead. But, really, it doesn't end with his ass. I'm in love with him. He's my partner, the best friend I could ever want. He's not perfect, God knows he has his faults, titanic faults, but... They don't matter. He's the one for me, and I know it. 

That's out of the way. Well. Good. 

It's late, and I don't know how happy Jim will be if he finds me sitting here with no real purpose in life but to wait up for him. 

So, I wash my face, brush my teeth, put on some sweats, and get into bed. I pick up a well-loved tome, and leave it open on my lap. 

Yeah, so I'm waiting up. At least I'm being subtle about it. 

The thing is... I don't want to know what happened. I don't want to see Jim with rumpled clothes, sweaty hair, and flushed skin unless I made him that way. 

Shit. The door is rattling. It's opening. Jim's back. I can feel the adrenaline rush through my body, and for some reason, I want to run, but where would I go? So I stay in bed, and cautiously call out his name, just in case it's not Jim at all, but a serial killer with a key. Or to make sure he knows I'm awake. Pick your answer. 

Soft footsteps approach me, and the love god himself pokes his head through my open door. "Hey Chief. Have a good night?" 

"Not really." His face is in the shadows, and I can't figure out whether he'd bedraggled or not. His voice is cracked, though. Hoarse. Like he's been screaming somebody's name, over and over. "Come on in. How was your night?" Oh, I'm so casual. 

Jim pauses at the threshold, then comes into the low light of my room. I notice the tired look on his face first, then see that he has a split lip and a black eye. A white cloth is wrapped around his right hand. "Shit, Jim!" 

"You should see the other guy." Jim tries for a smirk, but it comes out a grimace. 

"I'm gonna kill the son of a bitch." 

"Why end the suffering?" Jim sighs and comes closer, and sits on the end of my bed. Hot damn, he's sitting on my bed. "He might have got a couple of shots on me, but he got the worse end of it. Trust me. I won't be hearing from the bastard again, unless it's in court or something, but I doubt he'd do that." 

He looks weary, like he's been entertaining his mother-in-law for a week. "Did he try to..." 

"Yes." 

"And you..." 

"Hit him." 

"Right." That clears things up. "Good." 

"Yeah." 

A perverse string of joy wraps around my heart, and I smile. Jim hit the bastard. Jim didn't sleep with him. He hadn't been getting fucked all that time. He was still mine. 

He looks towards the door, like he's thinking about leaving. Fuck, I don't want him to leave. "Jim!" God, my voice sounds frantic, and he's just sitting there, looking confused. 

He gives me a look, like, 'Fuck you're weird sometimes,' but says "Yeah?" 

"Um. Want to talk about it?" 

"Not really." 

"Oh." 

Jim starts tapping his hand on the bed, slowly at first, then faster. It speeds up and speeds up until Jim obviously can't take it anymore, and he jumps to his feet. 

I disentangle my feet from my covers, manoeuvre myself out of bed, and move to block his path to the door. "Jim!" It's not so frantic, this time, more desperate, and there's a longing in my voice I didn't know I could express, but there it is. 

He takes a step closer to me. That step, it could mean so much, or it could mean nothing. He's staring at me, not with the weird look, but with a new look, a speculative look. A shiver creeps down my spine. 

"Jim," I repeat, but it's softer this time, and I take another step closer, so we're right there, together, and I kiss him. Oh god, I'm kissing Jim. My lips are touching and tasting Jim's lips. And it's easy. 

Good God, he's opening his mouth, and his tongue... Shit, I'm an idiot. So much time... I'm kissing Jim, and he's kissing me, and his hands suddenly are holding my head in place, not letting me move. I'm clutching him, my hands on his back, touching the soft iron muscles through his black shirt. 

But his body goes still, and he pulls my mouth away from his. He drops his hands from my head, but doesn't back up. He has to breathe for a minute, but I can tell he wants to say something, so I just gasp and wheeze and stare at him like I've never seen him before. 

"Blair, do you know what you're doing?" He looks at me with wide eyes, but my gaze flickers to his swollen lips. I'm more revved up than I've been in years. I feel like I could run a marathon or something, if I didn't have this monumental erection. 

"Do you?" I ask, not wanting to be honest, not wanting to tell him. 

He takes a hand and strokes two fingers down the side of my face. He's so gentle. "Yeah. But Chief, I need to know..." 

"Yes," I say, "yes, I know what I'm doing. I want this." I kiss him again. His lips are so soft, and it's so much better than anything I've ever felt before, because this is love, and I know it. This is love. 

Jim takes over, and he walks us over to my bed until the back of my knees hit the edge, but he keeps pushing and we fall. I scoot up, trying to keep our lips connected, until I'm lying horizontally with my head on the pillow, and I pull Jim down on top of me. 

His body is solid, and heavy, and hot. The heat sears through my body. We're both fully clothed, but it doesn't matter, it's so good already. 

But Jim stops again, and he rolls off of me so he's lying to my left. I feel bereft, and I want to cry out. "Jim," I gasp. I can't say anything else, but I feel abandoned. 

He's lying next to me, and I can feel the side of his body against me. "I'm sorry, Blair," he's saying. "It has to mean something. I can't do this with you. I can't fuck up the thing we have, understand?" 

"We can't go back," I blurt out, panicked. "We won't be fucked up." 

"But I need..." 

I have it, I understand. "I love you, Jim. I'm fucking in love with you, but I thought you were straight, and then I thought maybe I wasn't your type. Am I?" 

I think he stops breathing, and I sit up to look at him. His eyes are closed, and there's a look of pain on his face. But then he opens his eyes to look at me, and it's not pain at all. His eyes are shining, and he pulls me down to him. It's an uncomfortable angle, but it doesn't matter, because I'm kissing Jim again. And in between kisses, he whispers it, "I love you, Blair," and I don't know what to feel, but I know I'm glad. 

He is stroking my hair, and devouring my mouth, and I'm struck by the connection I feel to him. We kiss until my neck cramps up, and I pull away and whisper "clothes." He sits up, and we both undress, just flinging our clothing away, even though Jim did dress up pretty for that bastard, and those are his best pants that he just dropped in a heap on the floor. He loves me; he must, because Jim would not do that to his best pants. 

And fuck, that body. Jim lies back down, unselfconscious and absolutely breathtaking. I reach out and graze my hands over his chest lightly, and I lean down and kiss his left nipple, and flick my tongue over it. Jim makes a soft, sweet sound, and I move to his other nipple, and bite it gently, and he gasps. And all of a sudden I'm scared out of my mind, because this is Jim, and I want to do this right. 

"Blair?" he asks, and I look up, into his eyes. He must sense my fear, because he brings his hand up and cups my face. "You okay?" 

I feel better, instantly. He loves me. I grin and say "Oh, yeah," then crawl across the bed so that I'm between his legs. I touch his beautiful cock, running two fingers down, then up the hard flesh, and Jim murmurs something unintelligible. I grin even wider, before leaning down and doing the same with my tongue. His cock is an oxymoron in its soft hardness; it feels like silk-covered iron. 

I take the head into my mouth, and the sounds Jim is making are making me ache to be touched, ache to be inside him, but this is good, I'm enjoying this. 

Jim tastes like Jim, which is funny because I've never tasted him before tonight, and I'm certainly no Sentinel. I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and start to suck, and I'm very glad for some perverse reason that Jim's loud in bed, because it makes everything better, and I'm usually a talker myself. Jim's not talking, though; he's groaning and gasping and whimpering and shouting, and my cock is feeling every single noise. 

And he's close, he's needy and ready, and I angle my head just right, and take him down my throat, and that does it, just like I knew it would. He shouts in warning, and then he's coming, and I do my best to swallow it all, and god, he tastes perfect, and I whimper in need myself. 

Jim just lies there breathing for a minute, but then he moves up and pounces on me. We get sort of tangled, and I try to disentangle our limbs, but he doesn't bother, he just kisses me, without any reservation whatsoever. His tongue feels like it's everywhere, he's devouring me, and I'm so fucking hot that I can't really do anything but lie there and revel in it. 

He pulls away, and slides down my body like a cat, and I wonder if maybe there's more of that panther in him than he tells me. But then his mouth is around my cock, and I stop thinking. "Oh, fuck, Jim, yeah, suck me baby," I murmur. Calling Jim "baby" doesn't seem as weird as I thought it would. He's engulfing me, he's tasting me, and I know I really can't last. "Jim, it's too much, I'm almost there, just don't stop," I groan, and he doesn't. He's really into it, he's going for it, trying to bring me over the edge quickly and fuck, it's working. I gasp out something and then I'm coming, harder than I can remember ever coming before. I lift my head and watch as Jim swallows it down, watch him lovingly clean me with his tongue when I'm finished. I may be finished, but somehow I think we're just beginning. 

He crawls back up so we're more or less even and stretches out next to me. We're sort of diagonal, and he's off-centre, so his calves are hanging off the edge of the bed. He throws an arm over my chest and pulls me close to him, and he just holds me. He's breathing into my hair. I think he's smiling, but I can't tell. My body calms down somewhat, but I couldn't sleep if I wanted to. 

I just had sex with Jim. Jim Ellison just brought me off with his mouth. I've swallowed Jim's come. 

Jim's mine. He never wanted that bastard, he wanted me. And here he is, holding onto me like I'm something precious. I'm in love with him. 

"You're incredible," I mumble into his shoulder, my voice hoarse. 

"And you're beautiful," Jim whispers. "How long have you wanted this?" 

"Long time." 

"Me too." He shifts his body, and I can feel his erection against my leg. The sensation perks up my own cock, and suddenly I'm incredibly aroused again. Fuck. 

He kisses me, softly, gently, deceptively gently because a second later he's delving into my mouth, feasting on me. He pulls back and gasps in a breath, then whispers, "Fuck me." 

I gape at him, not believing he just said that. And he says it again. "Fuck me, Blair." It may have only been a short while since I'd come, but fuck, I felt harder than ever. 

"Are you sure?" I want him to say it again. I want him to beg me, but I won't make him do that, not tonight. 

He kisses me, and traces my lips with his tongue. "I want you to fuck me, Sandburg. I want to feel you inside of me. Would that be all right with you?" He's sarcastic, but he's grinning, and he's naked and he's hot and he's mine. 

"That'd be good," I murmur. Yeah, okay, so I'm kind of plunging in fast here, but this is good. He starts to kiss my neck, and I groan, realising the implications here. I'm going to fuck Jim. Shit. That fear I thought I'd lost comes back to me, and I shiver, suddenly cold. 

Jim pulls back and sighs. Damn those senses of his. "This isn't a test, Sandburg. I want to be fucked. I love you. Can you deal with that or not?" 

It feels like a test. "Can I deal with you wanting to be fucked, or can I deal with you loving me?" 

"Both." 

I sit up, turn, and swing my legs over the side of the bed, so that I'm not facing Jim. I hear him moving, sliding up to the head of the bed so that he can lean his back against the wall. "I love you too, Jim." 

"I know." 

"And I want to fuck you." I laugh at myself. "God, I really, really do." 

"Okay. The problem?" 

I turn and look at him. Breathe, Sandburg. My god, he looks delicious; he's half propped up by the wall, with his arms folded behind his head, and the rest of his body is just waiting there. He's still erect, and his legs are slightly apart, and I can't believe I'm all the way over here. 

So I get my ass over there, and sprawl on top of him, and kiss him. "No problem," I mutter when my mouth leaves his. "I'm sorry, Jim." 

"Don't let it happen again." He starts rubbing my left nipple, the pierced one. "Don't be scared, Blair." He tugs the ring, gently, but oh god that feels great. "Make love to me," he says, and I kiss him again, as lewdly as I can muster, fucking his mouth with my tongue. 

I leave him panting and jump up to get the lube and a few condoms from my desk. I throw the extras onto my bedside table, and move between Jim's legs, spreading them further apart, exposing his ass. I take a few deep breaths, trying to center myself. 

I clumsily spread some lube on my fingers, then start stroking his cock lightly with my left hand. My right hand goes to his ass; I spread some of the slimy stuff around his opening, then gently insert a finger. "That's right baby, relax for me," I mutter, and Jim is relaxed, this is easy going so far. I look up to his face, and he looks blissful, and that sends a wave of pride and lust through me. I'm making Jim like that. 

I continue to get him ready, until I'm fucking him with my fingers and he's whimpering. He finally says something like, "Fuck, Sandburg, now, please," and that's very close to begging, and I almost lose it. 

"Just a minute," I say soothingly, and remove my fingers to put on the condom. I cover my cock with more of the stuff, then chuck it onto the bedside table. I move up Jim's body, and pull up his hips a bit, and start to ask if he's ready, but he interrupts me with a groaned "Fuck me, Blair." 

I enter him slowly, easing forward into his body, focusing my thoughts on keeping it slow and easy, cause if I let myself think about how his ass feels around my cock I know I'll come right now. Jim lets me in gladly, his body relaxed and welcoming. I give one more tiny thrust, and I'm in all the way. "Fuck, Jim, I love you," I groan, because I can't help myself. 

This is too good to be real. I start to move, to thrust into Jim's body, slow and gentle. He's shaking, and meeting every thrust, and making little noises which aren't words, but a new language, a language I want to learn. I want to be fluent in those little gasped sounds. "Jim, I love your ass, you're so beautiful, is this good?" I can't stop the flood of words from my mouth, and they seem inadequate compared to Jim's language. "Reach down and touch your cock, Jim. Oh god, I'm fucking you, Jim." 

He reaches down and starts to stroke himself, pretty inefficiently if you ask me. He keeps stopping to groan, to speak in that language of lust, and he's not concentrating on his cock at all. Which means he's concentrating on my cock in his ass, which makes me speed up a bit, and I move his hips a little so that I can go even deeper. 

Which was a good move, apparently, because he says "Oh, fuck," and starts to thrust against me, urging me without words to fuck him harder and faster. 

What can he be feeling with those senses of his? I look at his face, and see that it's scrunched up, tense. "Let it go, Jim," I say, not missing a stroke. "Dial up, feel me inside of you, feel everything. I'll be here to catch you if you fall. Just let go." 

He makes a choked noise like a sob and relaxes his face, and I know that his mind is deep inside himself, feeling everything. I'm the only one who can bring him out of that. This has to be right, this has to be what was meant for us. 

It doesn't take long from there; I thrust in three more times and he's gone. His come splatters on my belly, and the look on his face is rapture, bliss, even though he's gasping and sobbing with his release. One more stroke, and I lose it too, exploding within Jim's body, and the moment seems to last forever. 

I fall onto him, and rest for a moment, before pulling out and disposing of the condom. I take my t-shirt from the floor and wipe Jim's come from our bodies, before throwing it on the floor. 

I surround Jim's body with mine, and kiss him, trying to engage his senses. He's gone, zoned on pleasure. "Jim, baby, come on back, come on back to Blair and we'll get some sleep. Come on Jim, feel my body on yours, listen to my voice. I'm still here, baby. I'll always be here, as long as you are. But I need you conscious, okay buddy?" I kiss him again, and he responds, and I smile in relief against his mouth. It's a chaste kiss; there's no more gusto in either of us tonight. "You okay?" 

"Perfect." He looks at me with serious eyes. "Thank you, Sandburg. That was... amazing." 

I grin. "Man, any time, okay? You don't have to worry with me, ever." I slide off of him, and yank the crumpled covers from underneath his ass. I cover him, turn off the light, then crawl back in beside him, thankful that the mess is on the outside of the bed. 

Hopefully any mess will always be on the outside, because this is too perfect to ever spoil. Jim's arms gather me to him, and he presses a kiss to my temple. "Night, Blair." 

"Night, Jim. I love you." It's already so easy to say, and there's nothing uncomfortable about it. I'm in love with Jim, and he's in bed with me, and I know... 

"Love you too," he mumbles, already mostly asleep. 

And there it is. 

End 


End file.
